


i'm learning to live with ghosts

by huntressed



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Slow Burn, because susan pevensie deserves so much better, but i mean, kind of a reincarnation au?, or i don't know?, post-war era england, really slow burn, they fucking meet again and that's what matters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntressed/pseuds/huntressed
Summary: Being a friend of Narnia has its expiration date, she realizes. So by the time she finds out that Edmund and Lucy can never return, she stops believing in it altogether – or at least, she tries to convince herself that she doesn’t believe in Narnia anymore.or, susan grows up and she meets caspian again except it's not really caspian, but it's also caspian.





	1. somehow our youth would take the blame

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from Laid Low by the Naked and Famous.

_torn down, full of aching_

_somehow our youth would take the blame_

_worn out, the way we let it stay_

**carry you  \  novo amor.  
**

* * *

 

 **YEARS OF BEING** alone forces one to grow up at a much faster pace than anyone else. Her calloused hands are tired of wiping away tears as they flow while she tries to live a life as ordinary and as mundane as everyone else. However, years of mourning never really gives anyone mercy of any kind; she’s still alone, her siblings are still dead, and she’s still pining after someone she could never meet again.

            A hundred years ago, she had been a queen. A queen most lords of Narnia sought after – a queen desired by many yet no one could ever reach. She had been happy then, without the company of any of her suitors so as long as her siblings are with her and her people are happy. She doesn’t mind being alone then – for she had been alone with other people.

            True loneliness, however, seeps into the cracks of her joints and molds itself with her bones – it’s growing on her until it becomes her.

            It starts when she leaves Narnia with the knowledge of never going back. There’s a King in front of her, looking at her like she’s the strongest yet the most delicate person to have graced the lands of Narnia. She basks in the glow of his gaze, a sad smile painted on her rose-colored lips as she reminds him of the years between them.

            She’s ready to leave, promising herself that she’ll treasure their memories together – no matter how little and short-lived they may be – and move on, but her heart tugs painfully at her chest and she goes back to grace his lips with hers, a final memory to share with him before she goes back to where she belongs. His arms around her waist is still painstakingly vivid in her mind, as well as the way he kisses her shoulder before she finally crosses over to the mundane and warring world she belongs to.

            The pining follows suit. She finds herself comparing every other boy in her boarding school to Caspian the Tenth. Her head is filled with comparisons of how they can never be as gentle as him, of how they can never be as strong as him, of how they can never _be like him._ It’s unhealthy and she knows it – but it’s the only way she could cope with the grief and loss of him so she continues despite the worried glances from all her siblings and even her best friend.

            What’s next is the news of Caspian finding himself a queen. It’s a sad news delivered to her the moment Edmund and Lucy returned from Narnia – like her and Peter, they can never return again. They’ve learned all that they can in Narnia, and they must learn of Aslan in this very world – it’s all stupid to her. They’ve made homes for themselves in Narnia yet Aslan forces them out back again into this world where they are nothing, where they could never stop the war and could only watch as their loved ones risk their lives every single day in order to live.

            She tells herself to stop believing, that she needs to grow up.

            So she did.

            After all, what else is there for her to do after she’s been shut out from the place she had cherished? It wouldn’t do her any good if she continued to pine after Narnia when deep inside her head; she knows that there is no way for her to return. She thinks of Aslan and his harshness towards them – throwing them back out into the world they can never change and a world that could possibly cut them in half if they ventured too far.

            Being a friend of Narnia has its expiration date, she realizes. So by the time she finds out that Edmund and Lucy can never return, she stops believing in it altogether – or at least, she tries to convince herself that she doesn’t believe in Narnia anymore.

            Her siblings continuously ask her to stop playing it off as though it was just some childhood game they’d played, but how could she acknowledge that all of it was real when she has no remembrance from that world other than loneliness?

            She doesn’t relent. Instead, she allows Lucy and the others to think that she’d changed, that she only cared for superficial things rather than what’s important.

            Little did they know that she does care – in fact, she cares too much that the gaping hole in her chest where Narnia had once been is still bleeding. So she resorts to troubling ways of coping in order to keep her sane. She adjusts to this ever-changing world filled with warfare and hatred and superficiality that she doesn’t even bother to look back at the world she loved dearly.

 

 **THE RAIN NEVER STOPS,** or at least that’s how it seems for Susan as she walks through the cobblestone paths leading to her flat in Manchester. It’s been long since she left Finchley in favor of a new environment. While it’s not like Narnia in any way, Finchley still holds memories of her siblings as well as her parents who are all dead.

            Absentmindedly, her pace quickens and she nearly slams the door close as she enters the flat she got for herself a few years ago. It’s spacious and provides quite a homely ambiance. It suits her needs and she has no worries whatsoever with paying for her flat as she gets quite the salary from her profession.

She’s working now as a political adviser for the governor. Her superior commends her at work for her good work and her heavy understanding of politics. Susan thanks them – but deep inside she’s longing for their respect. She had been a queen, after all, hence the reason why she’s so good in the field of politics and diplomacy. 

            However, along with the praises they give her are criticisms mostly aimed towards her gender than her skill set. Men and their inflated egos would often sneer at Susan for landing a job they oh-so-coveted. Politics after the war is a messy affair that Susan delved into with her head held high, carrying all the knowledge of her years as Queen of Narnia.

            With a sigh, she collapses down on her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before standing back up again to help herself to a piece of bread she just got from the baker down the street. It’s seven in the morning and she’s supposed to report to work in two hours.

            The morning light peeks through the spaces between her curtains as she moves around in her place, hanging her clothes by the handles of her closet to make sure they wouldn’t crease again. Susan moves almost robotically as she makes sure everything is ready before she goes to work. All her papers are neatly stapled and secured inside her bag, her shoes are polished placed just next to the door, and the only thing missing is Susan actually getting ready for work.

            However, there’s still a huge amount of sleep that’s being yearned for by her system and as if on cue, she finds herself slipping as she steps on a rag that she so hastily left on the floor. The sound of a body colliding with the floor rattles through her flat, but she’s alright – it’s nothing compared to the wounds she got from multiple battles back in Narnia.

            Susan shakes her head. She will not think of Narnia – she will never think of Narnia again.

            Multiple raps are heard from outside her door and Susan immediately stands up, smoothing her skirt after as she calls out “Just a minute!” to the person outside the door.

            She sighs and fixes her hair before opening the door.

            “Are you alright? I heard a loud sound coming from your room. Oh, I just moved across the hall yesterday, just in case you don’t know.”

            Susan is rarely ever caught by surprise. Oftentimes her face is calm and collected, but the face of the man across the threshold renders her speechless. His accent and voice are all too familiar, she knows the lines and edges of his face all too well, and the way he collects himself is nothing Susan has never seen before.

            He looks – no, he is very much like Caspian. From his looks down to the way he talks, and to that worried expression on his face, the very expression Susan is looking at right now.

            She shuts the door right in his face.


	2. remind me of the things i used to miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if her siblings are still alive, she’d have her life perfectly put together as well, but that would forever be just wishful thinking. For her siblings are dead, as well as her parents.
> 
> She doesn’t know much about the way life works but she’s sure of one thing; it hates her.

_remind me of the things i used to miss_

_you know very well i can't resist_

_the feeling of reaching out and coming back to you_

_just this once, show me where it used to_

**maybe  \  jensen gomez  
**

* * *

 

 **HER BREATHING IS HEAVY** as she leans against the door. The previous Queen of Narnia is in all states of denial as she closes her eyes to calm herself down from the exchange that just happened between her and the man who moved from across the hall.

            Despite her shutting the door in his face, he’s still knocking on her door asking her what’s wrong.

            Maybe she would have appreciated his concern once upon a time, but that’s too long ago. Besides, this man is not even Caspian. He’s just… a mirror image, a trick of the parallel worlds Aslan probably made lifetimes ago.

            It’s a horrible trick to play, in her opinion. She’d finally gotten accustomed to living in post-war England where everything is a mess, but somehow tolerable in a sense, and then Aslan does this to her. He gives her a Caspian who’s not quite the boy she’d loved, but him all the same.

            Everything comes back to her and she’s not prepared, not at all.

            “Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?” The knocking becomes a little bit more persistent until it dies down suddenly.

            Susan sighs and she feels her chest loosen up. Her curled fists relax and she finds herself holding on to the nearest chair. Her insides are churning and she could feel her spine cracking under the immense tension she’s feeling.

            Wherever she may be in this world, Caspian shouldn’t be there. They’re literally two worlds apart – kept from each other within the pockets of different dimensions that will never meet unless a certain lion wills it to.

            They are millions of years apart, an hour in England could be forty years in Narnia, and even a split second in England could be a year in Narnia. That fact alone should guarantee that her recovery and her years of systematic distraction and coping should work without any relic from her Narnian past.  

            She is wrong, so very wrong.

            However, like any other sensible person on Earth, she dismisses the occurrence to nothing more than just a hallucination. He couldn’t be real. _Not when he’s probably dead._

            It takes her a few minutes before she finally gains enough energy to bring herself to the bathroom for a shower. She has to go to work in a few, and she wouldn’t dare waste her time over a hallucination of Caspian a while ago. While she knows that Narnia defies all laws of logic, this one just simply couldn’t be real.

            It takes her another round of convincing herself that he’s not real before she manages to put her clothes on and prepare her lunch. Work has been hectic recently and she finds herself unable to go out to buy some lunch, besides she’s saving up money to get herself a more decent flat.

            Her mind wanders off as she carefully glides the butter knife over a slice of bread. It wanders off to Cair Paravel, specifically, Cair Paravel with the view of the sea from just outside the throne room, Cair Paravel with all her siblings and their constant bickering like they never really grew up at all, Cair Paravel where everything is just… perfect for lack of a better term. There had been a lot of hurdles during their reign, but they managed, all because they had one another.

            Maybe if her siblings are still alive, she’d have her life perfectly put together as well, but that would forever be just wishful thinking. For her siblings are dead, as well as her parents.

            She doesn’t know much about the way life works but she’s sure of one thing; it hates her.

            Life had taken her away from her home (Narnia), the love of her life (Caspian), and the people she treasured the most (her family) – and she’s not quite sure if she’s ready to face on the uncertainties it would give her alone. Susan had literally lost all form of emotional support and she’s relying mostly on isolation and distraction for coping mechanisms and without her loved ones around, she wouldn’t have the strength to feel anything for a healthier healing.

            Had Peter been here he would have been telling her about how she shouldn’t isolate herself much from the world, that it’s lonely to rule one’s dreams without the guidance and the company of others. Lucy would have given her a warm hug before reassuring her that everything will be alright despite the unknown future. While Edmund would have given her a good joke about things before telling her that he’ll be there whenever she needs him.

            Susan had lost so much in life that she feels as though it takes away a huge piece of her heart every single time it happens. She remembers feeling a gaping hole in her chest the moment they stumbled out of the wardrobe – out of Narnia and into England where nothing really happy ever exists. Then there was Caspian and the war, albeit it’s not really recommended to fall in love while there’s a war to be fought and the stakes are high, she couldn’t really help it not when he’d shown her love and compassion and warmth. The pain still stings up to this day from the moment she kissed him for the first time – and the last time, to the moment she stepped back into this world.

            The most painful of all is the loss of her entire family in just one day. She couldn’t remember a night without crying during the first few months of their deaths. She remembers all the phone calls she had to do and all the money she had to spend so she could bury _five_ people. She remembers fleeting voices expressing their condolences and Susan could only nod in return because she has no energy at all to even accept the sympathy of the people around her.

            Maybe she’s an unstoppable force of nature in Narnia, a queen that no one could ever touch for she is strong and dangerous and beautiful at the same time – but that was long ago. She’s here in England and she’s broken beyond repair.

 

 **EVERYTHING SHE NEEDED** is prepared, and all she really needs is to get out of the door and walk all the way to her office. However, Susan’s hand is shaking as it hovers above the doorknob.

            He shouldn’t be there. He couldn’t be there.

            She pushes the door open and as if on cue, the door to his opens and it’s as if she is a deer caught in headlights. There are two options: flight, or retreat. However, the door is already locked the moment she closed the door – retreat will never work. Flight is desirable, but only possible if she could regain the proper composure to run away from him.

            How could she run though when it’s almost a decade since she had last seen his face?

            She’ll give herself this time to look at him, to study the way his features come together, and to think of all the memories she had with Caspian before she begins to run away from him.

            “I’m sorry about earlier. My approach is probably wrong. I’m Caspian.” He holds out his hand and Susan finds it hard to distinguish him from the Caspian she’d met in Narnia. The resemblance is uncanny, hell even the way he speaks and the way he holds out his hand is identical to Prince Caspian.

            Despite the fact that she wanted to leave right at that moment, she shakes his hand. “Susan.”

            “That’s a pretty name.”

            Susan takes him in, the way he looks at her, the way he smiles, and the way his palm feel on hers. Then, she shakes her head and pulls her hand away from his. “Please don’t do that again.” And then she leaves.


	3. you've been dancing on your own too long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every single day is a desperate attempt to avoid Caspian, though she wouldn’t quite admit it to herself. He’s the wildcard in this game of Susan avoiding all things in life that reminds her of Narnia (even though most of her daily decisions are a reflection of her missing her life as a queen, and her life with her siblings), and he’s thrown her off guard so many times before that she goes to her avoidance and denial coping mechanism.

_The lion’s lost its mane_  
  
_You’ve been cornered into something you can’t win_  
  
_Whats the point in having something_  
  
_If that something makes you thin?_

__

**thin / aquilo**

* * *

 

 **ISOLATION IS SUCH AN EASY THING FOR SUSAN.** All her days are spent in autopilot and the most interactions she receives on the daily are from her colleagues who are all either too harsh or too friendly with her. Before she took the job at the governor’s office, she’d already weighed out the pros and cons of being a woman in an office dominated mainly by men. The only reason why she ever continued doing it is because it gives her almost the same amount of purpose that she had in Narnia. It’s not the same thing; being a queen and being a political advisor, but she sees herself standing behind Peter in her study once more, going over multiple battle strategies that it’s almost impossible for her to throw the job away.

            She doesn’t mind the loneliness. She has mastered that art months after her family had died and she had them buried in a cemetery in Finchley – she buried them far away, far enough so that she wouldn’t have to pass by their graves in a daily basis and see their tombstones. Seeing them in her memories is hard enough, seeing their graves would throw her into a crying fit – something she doesn’t quite do anymore.

            The papers in front of her have all been signed and the only thing left for her to do is to take them back to the governor. A passing thought of teaching politics in the university near her flat is enough to tempt her. Little by little, she increases her workload and finds herself desperately wanting to do more things than just the daily job in the office.

            Going back to her apartment is slowly becoming more and more unbearable starting from the day Caspian moved across the hall. Memories of Narnia that she ever so desperately tried to repress are getting stronger the more she sees his face. They’d coincidentally open the door at the same time and Susan finds the walls of their building morphing into the stone walls of Cair Paravel. She goes back once more into her room with an apologetic smile.

            Every single day is a desperate attempt to avoid Caspian, though she wouldn’t quite admit it to herself. He’s the wildcard in this game of Susan avoiding all things in life that reminds her of Narnia (even though most of her daily decisions are a reflection of her missing her life as a queen, and her life with her siblings), and he’s thrown her off guard so many times before that she goes to her avoidance and denial coping mechanism.

            Susan finds herself mailing the application letter for a teaching post in the university a few hours later before she heads back to her flat.

 

 **SHE WAITS BEHIND A FAMILY OF FOUR BY THE GROCER’S** **FOR HER WEEKLY PROVISIONS.** Usually, Susan is indifferent to scenarios like this. She’d go about her day like any other normal person without much reaction to what’s happening around her. This time, though, it’s all quite different. There’s the loneliness screaming inside her head once more, and she feels the envy at the pit of her stomach. How can this family have all their four children together and still be happy?

            The question rephrases in her mind and soon enough she’s asking herself why her family died all at once. She wishes for it to just be her, for the train to take her instead of all of them – after all, one death is quicker to mourn instead of five (six if she includes the death of her soul), yet every single day she wakes up to the stillness of her flat with no Peter, Edmund, Lucy, and her parents.

            “Fancy meeting you here,” She hears his voice and Susan goes back to the world once more. The family’s almost done and Caspian is standing beside her with his hands deep into the pockets of his coat.

            Susan takes a deep breath, “you too, Caspian.”

            “Preparing for something?”

            “Not really,” The last time Susan ever prepared something for other people had been a little over a year ago. No one has entered her apartment since then – apart from the plumber she subtly shooed out of her flat the moment he’s finished.

            “On a Friday night? I don’t quite believe you, Susan,” The smile on his face brings her back to their conversations back in the astronomy tower of Cair Paravel. Susan had to blink thrice just so her surroundings wouldn’t melt into Narnia.

            “There’s simply nothing to prepare for.”

            The conversation reaches an abrupt halt and Susan finally places her order to the grocer. Caspian proceeds to do the same and the grocer goes and prepares all their orders. Caspian is silent, and Susan is so very thankful that he’s not initiating a conversation. Every word he says confounds her into thinking that maybe he is the Caspian she has met in Narnia years ago, and she’d rather not have herself believe all of that.

            She couldn’t fall for him only to lose him once again.

            Their orders arrive and Susan struggles with the paper bags. Caspian offers to carry them, and as soon as she’s about to tell him that she’s got it (really, she does, she’s struggled with multiple paper bags before) he tells her that it’s the least he could do for startling her on their first meeting.

            “Is there nothing I can do for you to give me those bags?” Susan asks, her tone going up a few octaves which only shows that she’s ready to plead for those bags if she has to.

            “I’m afraid not. Besides, I have a car. It’s easier to get us back to the flat if you just ride with me.” He flashes another smile.

            Susan feels as though her knees are about to give out anytime soon. (It’s been years since she felt that, in fact, the last time she ever felt that was due to Caspian.)

            They walk in silence towards his car – a black Chrysler that looks brand new, or just completely well cared for.

            “I won’t force you if you don’t want to, but it’s better than walking all those blocks.” Caspian adds, possibly as an afterthought before he opens the passenger seat of the car for her.

            Without sparing him another glance, she eases into the passenger seat half-heartedly. She’s already here, why would she spend all those minutes of walking when she’s already inside a vehicle that could spare her some time.

            Also, she misses Caspian, so she gives herself just this one time to bask in the presence of this guy who’s not Caspian – but Caspian all the same – just to give her a moment of comfort before she goes back to her daily scheduled isolation.

             The drive back is quiet. There is stillness within the car that’s oddly comforting and quite anxious at the same time. Susan hears the waves of the sea in front of Cair Paravel within the silence, and in a fit of nostalgia, she looks at Caspian as he drives to their flat.

            He looks different, but the same. His hair is cut short, and it’s a little unruly, as though he doesn’t give much attention to it. A huge difference from his long hair back in Narnia – it was long enough that Susan remembers running her fingers through it while she kissed him before leaving. The way he carries himself is far more superior to the nervous boy she’d met in Narnia, the boy who’s scared to be a king, but embraces it anyway. This Caspian is not nervous – no, in fact, he’s filled with confidence that it could almost rival Peter’s.

            She allows herself to observe him for a few more seconds before she returns her gaze back to the road. Her heart aches at the thought of Narnia, and of Caspian. Beside her is a man who’s very much like her first love, only he doesn’t know of Narnia, and she reckons he doesn’t know she knows him either.

            Her heart sinks even further.

            Caspian hands her all the groceries as soon as they get back upstairs. Susan smiles and is just about to bid him goodnight when he touches her shoulder lightly.

            “I’d really love it if we could get dinner sometime soon, my place.” With that, he disappears into the safety of his apartment leaving a stunned Susan Pevensie out in the hallway.


End file.
